


The Bees Will Wait

by hardboiledbaby



Series: A New Beginning [3]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Community: watsons_woes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 12:50:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1941786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardboiledbaby/pseuds/hardboiledbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Retirement fic, based on the events in "His Last Bow." </p><p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1910397">"I Give Him Flowers."</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bees Will Wait

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Watsons_Woes 2014 July Writing Prompts Challenge, prompt #11: Save the Bees!

"So how is Sussex?"

Watson, who was arranging the pillows in a pile against the headboard, turned and arched a brow knowingly at me. "You mean, how are the bees?" He sat up and leaned against the pillows with a contented sigh. 

I pushed myself up to lean against him and he wrapped his arms around my chest. In this position, I didn't have to hide my smile as I replied, "Well, since the bees _are_ in Sussex…."

He chuckled briefly, and it was just as I remembered it: smooth and pleasant, but in our private moments enriched with a warm, sensual undertone. Music for my ears alone. God, how I had missed this. Missed him.

The drive from Harwich had been tiresome, as the presence of the unmusical German and his near-constant stream of vituperation prevented any meaningful discourse with Watson. And once we were finally rid of Von Bork and safely in our suite of rooms at the Claridge (and yes, after I had shaved), conversation was not the highest priority for either of us. It was only now, some considerable time later, that we could turn our attention to other matters, less urgent but no less important.

"I'm afraid I lost one hive," he said, sobering. "Winter came early and hard, that first year."

I nodded. It had done so in Chicago, as well.

"Two colonies were struck by fungus the following spring, and I was so worried that it would spread and I would lose them all... but it did not, thankfully. Even the infected ones managed to survive, by some miracle." 

"You are the miracle," I said. "You saved them. I owe you a great debt of gratitude." 

I felt Watson hesitate. "We saved each other, perhaps."

 _Oh._ "Then I must thank the bees as well."

"You do that," he said, and I could hear the gentle smile in his voice. "We get along well enough, these days, but they miss you."

"Do they?" I said softly, pulling his arms closer about me. "John—"

"I know. You're needed here in London," Watson said. "The bees will have to wait." He cleared his throat. "I will not, however."

I turned to face him fully. "What?"

"I will not sit on my hands in South Downs any longer, waiting and wondering, love. I do not have your skills, but I am a doctor, still. The Army will not have me—" he frowned and shifted his bad leg under the bedclothes, and all I could think was _Thank God Thank **God**_ "—but surely I can be of use somewhere. 

"I've already asked Stackhurst to keep an eye on the property, and Jenny Chalmers and her brother Philip have agreed to come up from the village to check on the hives. It is not ideal, but this is wartime. We must all make do, even the bees." My beloved squared his shoulders and looked me in the eye. "Will you have me at your side in this?"

I did not need words to answer him.

We would face this new threat together, then, my soldier doctor and I. And when the east wind is defeated—as it must be—we will return to Sussex, and the bees will welcome us home.


End file.
